The Next Generation
by danceshoes88
Summary: Questions are arising and Willow Mellark grows curious of her parents' history. When President Paylor is found dead on the outskirts of District 2, a familiar face rises to power; one that isn't necessarily good for the citizens of Panem. Life for Willow in District 12 becomes more exciting as the President's new rules evolve and the secrets to her parents' past unfolds.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Title credits go to my friend Emily who helped me finally end my many months of searching for a name. Thanks! Also thanks for editing it!) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does...**

**CHAPTER ONE**

I knew they were different from the start. The way people look at them when we are walking in the square, the way my father sometimes clutches the back of the kitchen chair with his eyes squeezed tightly shut while my mother tries to calm him down with slow soothing words, and how some mornings she just never gets out of bed. My parents may be different but they still love and do everything to protect my brother Asher and I.

"Willow!" shouts my mother from downstairs, "Come here please." I gently set down the tiger lily I was sketching and hurry down the stairs. I may look like my mother but, according to Haymitch I have my father's artistic abilities.

When I reach her she has a hint of a smile stretched across her face. This is almost a rare quality considering the fact that she is famous for her scowling. "Do you want to go hunting?" she asks me. I try my hardest not to shriek a "yes" because I am suppose to be turning twelve soon and I don't want to act like a five year old, but I can't help it. There is only one other thing that I inherited from my mother, and that would be her skill with a bow.

Together, we walk into the kitchen where my dad and Asher are baking a cake. The whole room smells like apples and cinnamon and I get lost in the mouth watering aroma while my mother explains where we are going. "Can I come?" pleads Asher. Being only six, he doesn't quite understand how to be quiet when in the woods.

My mother opens her mouth to speak but my dad quickly takes over. "Not today Asher." he says kindly. "Besides, you have to help me finish this cake." Asher still looks a little disappointed but almost immediately refocuses on stirring the sloppy batter.

We walk through the hall only stopping once so I can run upstairs and retrieve my bow. I examine the weapon, carefully tracing my initials carved into the wood. My mother had made it for me when I was about Asher's age and it has been used a couple hundred times.

When I return, my mother is gazing out the window. I have no idea as to what she is looking at so I assume she is just daydreaming. Finally she notices me and we quickly walk out into the summer air.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

As I step outside I let the sweet air engulf me. The scent of honey suckles and blackberries lingers as we get closer to our destination.

I gasp when I see the meadow. It has only been a couple weeks but it has changed tremendously. Bright green grass everywhere, with little dandelions and other flowers scattered about. I pick a dandelion and silently hand it to my mother. She smiles a thank you and places it in her hair. I'm not so sure why, but dandelions are somewhat symbolic to her and every time she sees them a grin breaks out across her face. Maybe she'll explain it to me one day but for right now it is on the list of things I need to know about my parents. Lets just say that that list is very long at this point. I only know a little bit about them. I have a feeling they had something to do with The Hunger Games because every time we talk about them in history class at school , I get weird looks from my classmates and the teacher always eyes me carefully as if she expects me to say something I shouldn't.

The woods have changed too. The leaves are now a deep dark green instead of the usual light tinted green. We stop by the hollowed out log so my mother can retrieve her bow and quiver. My mother's bow is almost identical to mine except hers is a little larger and was made by my late grandfather.

She has only mentioned him once, her father, but she gave enough detail to create a mental image. She described him as about her height with the same dark hair and piercing gray eyes that she also posses. I believe he was the one who taught her how to hunt but then again I don't remember too much because I was so young.

I feel a slight tap on my shoulder. I turn only to find my mother giving me a reprimanding look. "We need to move, it will be dark soon." Her voice is quiet making sure not to scare off any nearby game. I simply nod and continue to follow her. I tend to get lost in my thoughts quite a bit and I am just glad my mother has some patients with me.

We walk further into the woods before we actually start doing anything. We check the snares that my mother has set up first and thankfully don't finish empty handed. There are a couple of squirrels that we quickly toss into the game bag but nothing else. I gather some herbs near the lake. While working I come across the plant that my mother was named after. I gently touch its leaves and that's when I notice it, the weeping willow tree that grows near the katniss roots. "Funny how that ended up there." I quickly turn around only to see a smirk stretch across my mother's face. Curse her light feet, I didn't even hear her walk up.

"You put it there didn't you?" I ask just slightly suspicious. She doesn't answer. She just walks over and takes a seat next to me.

"You use to love this place when you were little." I have not realized it until now but, most of my memories I've had since I was young took place here or in the forest. Swimming in the lake's cool water, my mother teaching me how to shoot,and picking blackberries off their prickly bushes.

"And still do." I reply because it's true. I would live here if I could. It's so peaceful with the animals and such. My favorite are the mockingjays. I adore how they can repeat almost any tune thrown their way. My mother agrees with me on this but, I have noticed when she sings they fall silent. Her, singing. I have now realized what I want for my birthday, my mother to sing to me. She does not do it often and I have not the slightest idea why because her voice is beautiful. "Can you sing to me on my birthday?" I ask hoping for an approving answer.

"Of course." she replies. "You know, when you were little you use to be very hyperactive from all the sugar that your father gave you and singing was the only way I could get you to calm down." I look her in the eye before erupting in laughter. What she said was probably true. I was my dad's number one taste tester for his baking and sometimes he gave me a _little_ more than I needed.

I notice the sun setting and the rapidly decreasing temperature. _Could we really have been here this long?_ "Lets get going," begins my mother "We don't want worry Asher and your father."

"But we didn't even get to shoot yet!" I whine. "And by the way Asher is probably hoping I get lost in the woods." She laughs at this.

"We can go hunting tomorrow okay?"

"Okay." I say halfheartedly. I know the woods can be dangerous at night so I try not to protest the rest of the way home.


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Here's chapter three...)**

**CHAPTER THREE**

When we walk into the house my dad and Asher quickly shove something behind their backs. "What are you doing?" I ask curiosity getting the best of me.

"Something for your birthday."replies Asher. My dad quickly puts a finger to his lips and looks at him who, is already apologizing.

"Willow, why don't you go read in your room for a little bit?" suggests my dad . I nod silently and start for the stairs. They are acting very suspicious today.

When I reach my room I gently place my bow in the chest at the foot of my bed. I hate to lock up such a beautifully crafted object but my mother insists after Asher mistakenly thought it was a teething ring when he was younger.

I pick up the tiger lily I was working on earlier and continue sketching the outlines. I am about to start shading my favorite part, the petals, when my pencil breaks. "Dang it." I mutter under my breath. I pull open the drawer on my side table and begin rummaging through it hoping to find a spare pencil. I have no such luck. I try to think of closer places in the house might be besides my dad's art studio but again become unlucky. Looks like I'll be making a trip downstairs.

I force myself to walk towards the door. I am making my way through the hall when I hear voices coming from my parents room. I don't mean to eavesdrop but it's hard to resist. "Katniss we need to explain them to her soon, I mean she is almost twelve, almost old enough to participate in the reaping." says my dad. _What in the world is the reaping? _It sounds scary.

"Do you not think I know this Peeta? I haven't been able to get the thought out of my head all week!" He does not respond. "Sorry, I just thought we would have a couple more years." My mother rapidly apologizes for her sudden outburst. She is obviously stressed. They must be talking about me.

"I know Katniss but they are going to be teaching about them in school soon and wouldn't you rather us tell her than her teacher?" _Tell me what?_ I wonder. I am tempted to just walk in and ask them both this question but my feet feel like lead.

"Yes." is all she says.

"Okay then. I'm going to start on dinner." I hear my fathers footsteps coming towards the door. I quickly dart into my room. Just in time too because right as my door closes I hear theirs open.

I sit there on my bed attempting to process all of this. What did they mean they would rather them tell me than my teacher. Tell me what! Then it dawns on me, the games. I think back to all the lessons we have had on the horrible, annual event. They would never really mention any specific names and when we would ask they would simply say, "When your older." That is probably what my dad was talking about. After all we are suppose to learn more in depth about the rebellion next year in school, but what does this have to do with my parents?

My thoughts are interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. "Come in."

My mother emerges from the other side of the door. "Dinners ready." Her face is grave and distant, automatically telling me that whatever they need to explain to me is _not_ pleasant.

"Okay." I reply as she walks out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N: Here's chapter four... I may upload another chapter tomorrow depending the response to this one and whether or not I have time to with Hidden and all. Thanks for all the reviews and feedback! Now onto the story!)**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

No one but Asher talks during dinner. I guess the rest of us are just at a loss for words. I soon get bored (caused by my short attention span) with Asher ranting on about some game he played with his friends so, I decide to make this meal a little more exciting. I start launching my vegetables with my fork.

At first I am very discreet about my new game, but when I get the idea of hitting objects under the table I get well, noticed. I aim a pea at the table leg closest to my mother. That's where I go wrong. Instead of hitting it's assigned target it takes a slight turn and hits my mother's leg instead. I mentally face palm and slowly lift my head only to notice my mother's trademark scowl directed right at me. "Mommy what's wrong?" asks a completely innocent Asher.

"Your sister made the mature decision to play with her food." she says eyes boring into mine. I catch my dad's gaze and he, knowing how my mother can be sometimes, gives me a sympathetic look. She is about to scold me when the phone starts to ring. We all grow silent. Even though the popularity of phones has grown in District twelve, it is still a rare occasion when we receive a call. "I'll get it." says my mother while leaving her seat. _Yes, saved by the bell- or well, phone._

"Willow, why did you do that?" my dad asks kindly as my mother exits the room. I quickly explain my previous situation to him. "Okay, just try not to do it again please." I give a curt nod of my head and go back to eating.

When I finish eating I help my dad clear the table. I pick up my mother's plate who, at the moment is still on the phone. Minutes pass and I begin to grow concerned over what she is talking about. I sincerely hope it is nothing bad. Things have been growing suspicious in some of the other districts. Rumors have been going around that district four and one are starting to cut off the supplies that they are providing for The Capitol. Of course this could be a lie but it still is enough to get you thinking.

When my work is done in the kitchen, I join my dad and Asher in the other room. My dad is watching the television which, in my opinion is not entertaining at all. The only things on these days is historical propaganda and information from the districts and Capitol, so instead I play around with Asher. I am in the middle of tickling the poor kid as my mother enters the room smiling and claiming she has great news. My dad pats the cushion next to him motioning for her to come sit. "Annie called saying that her and Everest are planning a trip to district twelve next week." she says while sitting. I fill with joy. That _is_ great news. It has been long time since I have seen Everest, and he is like the big brother I never had.

"Who's Annie and Everest?" asks Asher a puzzled expression plastered on his face.

"Annie is an old friend of mine and your mothers," explains my dad. "And Everest is her son." He turns and faces my mother. "Isn't that a little risky Katniss, using the phone and all? I mean it's the same one from when you first moved in here." I wonder what he means by this.

"That's what I thought, but Annie said it would be fine and we were careful with our words. I am sure nothing will happen Peeta." she immediately replies. They seem to have a silent conversation that goes somewhere on the line of 'we'll talk about this later'. I give the pair a questioning look but my mother ignores it and continues. "I said they could stay in the spare bedroom if they wanted. Is that okay wi-" A look of horror crosses her face and she is staring right at the television. I follow her gaze only to find a teenager with her dark hair pulled into a braid and her piercing gray eyes looking back at me through the screen. The girl is wearing a uniform that oddly resembles a mockingjay and shouting words that are inaudible to my ears because my heart is beating too fast. There right in front of me is what has to be a younger version of my mother.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"Is that you?" I ask hoping to confirm my suspicion. My mother gives a slight apprehensive nod. _What is she doing on there?_ I glance over and notice her clutching my dad's hand so hard that his fingers are turning blue. I have never seen her so overwrought before.

"Mommy why are you on the TV?" Asher is just as confused about the situation as I am. My mother stays quiet. I notice the image on the screen has changed. It now shows another teenager but this one is male and has curly blonde hair. His bright blue eyes are full of happiness and life but it all seems to be a cover up for his true feelings. Clearly this is a younger version of my dad. He is talking a man with colored hair and a blue suit, obviously a capitol citizen. They are discussing calling a cease fire. _A cease fire to what?_ I look over at my dad just in time to notice his reaction. His pupils dilate and he begins to grip the arm of the couch so tight that his knuckles are white. My mother tries to help him snap out of what I like to call his episodes.

I hear a slight whimper to my left and turn to see Asher with tears streaming down his face. I rush over and pull him into an embrace. Asher always hates it when my dad does this. It tends to scare him which, I can understand, it scares me too. Thankfully he doesn't ask any questions because I wouldn't know how to answer them. I have no idea as to what causes my dad's episodes. My mother has never explained and every time I ask she ignores me or abruptly changes the subject.

I think about running to my room and taking Asher with me until they are finished, but end up going with the contrary. If something happens I want to be here to get help. My dad's episodes are always unpredictable and anything could go wrong. "It's okay Asher." I whisper into his ear. He doesn't reply but the tears continue to stream down his cheeks. I wipe them away gently with the back of my hand.

"Peeta are you okay?" My mother's voice is soft and merciful.

"I'm fine, thanks." he replies shakily then looks towards Asher and I. "Sorry." he says while making his way towards us. He gives us both a hug before picking up Asher, who clings to him like a small toddler.

My mother still looks a little unstable so I don't ask her any questions about the broadcasting when my dad leaves the room to put Asher to bed. She glances at me once and then walks over. I give her a questioning expression. "Soon." she mutters before kissing my forehead and starting off for bed. I later hear my parent's bedroom door shut.

I wait for my dad to return. Minutes pass and I am about to leave when I hear his footsteps on the stairs. "I'm sorry." He apologizes again while laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay, you couldn't help it." I say back, acting like it's no big deal which, it isn't, these things happen every now and then.

"Your right, I could not but, I am still sorry."

"For what?"

"For not providing you with any explanation." He catches my gaze. "I know that you question us Willow, and all we do is act like you never asked a thing and I am sorry for that. I promise, soon you will have answers." I look down at the floor.

"That's what mom said." My words are almost inaudible.

"It's true though." he reassures before pulling me into an embrace. He kisses the top of my head and together we walk to my room.

After I am tucked underneath the cool covers of my bed, I say good night to my dad. He is about to leave when he pauses. "Oh, and Willow?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for comforting your brother." A grin makes its way onto my face.

"Your welcome." I reply.

"Good night, I love you."

"Love you too." I watch as he leaves the room. Right as the door closes my mind practically bursts with questions, confusion, and suspicion. Why in the world was my mother on the television? Were my parents famous at one point? Do they have something to do with the rebellion? I do a little math in my head. The rebellion was twenty-seven years ago and that subtracted from my parents' age now, would make them about seventeen around that time. A perfect age for the adolescents on the screen. The teenage version of my dad had been talking to the blue-haired guy about calling a cease fire, but to what, the rebellion? It all seems to fit. Obviously they did have something to do with such a vital time in Panem's history, though, what could that something be? I'll have to ask them in the morning. Wait though, whats the point? They will probably ignore me as usual. My dad said I would get an explanation soon but, apparently 'soon' isn't soon enough. I calm down for just a second and pinch the bridge of my nose, something my mother does when she's stressed. I can just feel a headache coming on. _Great, I sound like one of those crazy workaholic people. _I decide to clear my mind and at least attempt to get some rest. Right as my head makes contact with my soft, fluffy pillow, my eyes close and I almost immediately drift off into a deep sleep, or so I thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N: Here's chapter six. Thanks for all the reviews and such! Sorry I did not update yesterday, I was busy. Anyways... Enjoy!)**

**CHAPTER SIX**

I am torn awake by a shrill scream. I don't second guess that it's coming from my parents room. It' is probably just another one of my mother's nightmares. They seem to be occurring more often than usual these past few days. I glance out the window. The sky is still pitch black. I slowly get out of bed and tip toe towards the door. Even though I am almost positive it is my mother, part of me just wants to make sure. My footsteps are almost silent as I make my way down the hall. I plant my feet in front of their bedroom door, trying to find the urge to turn the knob. Instead, I put in ear to the cold, hard wood and listen. Sure enough there is the faint sound of my dad's voice. It is comforting and gentle. All my worries dissolve and I silently retreat back to my room.

I lay on my bed wide awake and unable to fall asleep. _Thanks a lot mom. _I think but, almost immediately remind myself of all the times they had to wake up because of my nightmares or cries. I reluctantly decide to just wait for the sun to come up, keeping in mind that I will, for a fact, be grumpy in the morning.

I open my eyes to sunlight streaming in from the window. I must have dozed off sometime during the night. As I sit up I remember the agreement my mother and I had made yesterday. I quickly jolt out of bed and throw on my hunting clothes. When I am dressed I retrieve my bow from the chest and dash down the stairs.

As I walk into the kitchen a wave of utter confusion washes over me. "Good morning Willow." says my dad cheerfully.

"Good morning. Uh, where's mother?" My reply is spoke halfheartedly.

"She's in the woods." I must have some weird expression on my face because he then quickly adds, "But don't worry she'll be back soon." I give him a forced smile and take a seat at the table. I honestly don't care when she gets back, I just want to know why she left without me. It's not like her to break her promises.

I try to come up with ideas as to how I can meet her out there. I know if I asked my dad he would give me a straight up "no". He doesn't even like me going into the woods in general, yet alone by myself. Even if I do convince him, what are the odds of me actually finding her, she could be anywhere. I am about to give up when a thought comes to mind. Unlike the others this one might actually work. "Hey dad can I go outside till breakfast is ready?"

"Sure Willow."

"Thank you" I reply as I hop up from my chair and scamper towards the door. He just nods and continues to cook.

The sun blinds me as I make my way to the meadow. From there I can get to the woods without even being noticed. I hear the loud geese honks coming from Haymitch's house as I pass by it. _His liquor stash must be restocked, _I think.

As I approach the meadow I notice it is the same as yesterday. There is a slight breeze causing the tall grass to ripple like a air smells sweet and I wish I could stay here all morning, but I must keep moving.

When I reach the woods the first thing I decide to do is check the hollowed out log where my mother keeps her bow and quiver. Sure enough they are missing. Knowing that she would never take her bow out of the woods, I assume that she is hunting. My grip on my bow tightens and I am ready to join her. I look around for any possible sign that could tell me which direction she went in. Unfortunately the underbrush appears to be undisturbed, leaving me with a lack of clues. _Curse her many years of experience. _"Maybe she's at the lake." I mutter to myself thoughtfully. It is the only place I can think of right now so I head in that direction.

On my way there I pass by a new snare. I have walked this path over a hundred times and never once, have I seen this trap. I examine its contents carefully. It is way too complex for it to be one of my mothers (no offense to her and all), yet it still looks new and more modernized. The snare must have been placed here recently, but by who? My mother, occasionally Asher and I are the only ones that come into the woods, well, to the best of my knowledge, so whoever did set up the snare must be someone I don't know.

My thoughts are interrupted by footsteps behind me. I can't tell if they are human or animal so I do the only safe thing I can think of at the moment: climb up the nearest tree. I scurry up the branches, one by one until I reach a spot that hides my body from any eyes below. I peer down through the tapestry of limbs and leaves for the source of the cacophony. There, hunched over the trap is what appears to be a full grown man. He has dark hair and olive skin like a lot of the people in twelve but I can't recall any memory of him.. I move down a couple feet to try and get a better look. As I step on one of the branches, it suddenly snaps and I go plummeting toward the ground feet first.

There is a loud thud as my body comes in contact with the Earth. "Stupid gravity." I mutter under my breath. I try to stand up but a sharp agonizing pain shoots up my right leg as I put my weight on my ankle causing my knees to buckle. I glance around only to remember that I am not alone. The man is slowly walking toward me, his fingers gripping the handle of the knife on his belt. The first thing I notice is his eyes. They are exactly like my mothers; a stormy gray.

His face looks familiar but I can't quite figure out where I have seen him before. Then, it hits me. I examine the man carefully acknowledging every detail. He looks so different without his suit, and from the images shown on the television. Standing right in front of me is one of District Two's ambassadors. _What is he doing here?_

"You okay?" he asks. His voice is kind, _too_ kind.

"Yes." I snap right back. I am in no mood to talk to this guy.

He releases his grip on the knife. "You know, kids like you shouldn't be out here by themselves. What are you doing here anyway?" I try to keep my cool. _If only he knew._

"You know kids like me aren't suppose to be talking to strangers either, but here I am breaking all the rules." I reply sarcastically. "As for what I am doing here, that is for me to know and for you to find out."

"Okay kid, whatever."

"This _kid_ has a name." I retort, annoyed.

He scoffs. "Fine. What's your name?"

"Willow." I give him a fake smile. "Thanks for asking."

He replies with a similar gesture and then ponders over something unknown to my mind. "You sound exactly like someone I use to know. You even look like her too, except for the blue eyes." He dismisses the thought. "Where's your parents Willow?"

I narrow my eyes. "Around. Who's you friend?"

"More like former friend. I haven't talked to her in over twenty-five years." The ambassador looks off into the distance angrily. "She ditched me for Bread Boy." He mutters mostly to himself. "Hey, why should I tell you."

I think for a moment. "Because I am a fantastic listener and I also might know her."

"Oh yeah, I forget they mention her in school. Her name is Katniss Everdeen. She lives here in Twelve, though, she might have moved to District Four where her mother lives, but highly doubt it."

Curiosity creeps up inside my body. "Is her mother still alive?"

He looks at me as if I am completely brainless. "Uh, I think so."

All my previous emotions are replaced with sudden rage. _I have a grandmother? _Apparently my mother is hiding more from me than I expected! And how does she know _this _guy? "I have to go." I grumble before making my way (very slowly) towards the lake.

It seems like ages until the water finally comes into view. Thankfully my mother is sitting on the bank. "Willow! What are you doing here?" she demands right after acknowledging my presence. I limp over and sit next to her glad to be off my feet.

"I came to hunt with you." I huff.

She just nods and asks, "Which ankle?"

"Right." I immediately respond. She pulls some strips of cloth from her game bag and wraps it.

"Does your father know your here?" she asks while tucking the end of the fabric into earlier folds to keep the makeshift bandage in place.

I hesitate. "Not exactly."

"Willow!" I explain to her how I tricked dad into thinking I was just going out into the yard when I was actually planning on coming here.

"Hey," I protest, "It's no better than you breaking your promise!"

My mother stares at me perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"You said that you would take me shooting today since we ran out of time yesterday." I reply.

My mother drops her gaze and mumbles "I'm sorry Willow I don't remember much of yesterday."

"Why?"

"Because," she mutters "I keep trying to forget it." I open my mouth to speak but she interrupts me. "And before you ask why, the answer is because. I will explain later."

"You always say that." I complain under my breath. She ignores this.

"Now, changing the subject, how did you hurt your ankle?"

"I fell out of a tree." I say. "And before you ask why I was in a tree, it is because I heard footsteps." She laughs.

"What type of animal was it?"

"A human." I answer simply. My mother's expression turns serious.

"What did they look like?" she asks an edge to her voice.

"It was one of two's ambassadors, you know the one with gray eyes and dark hair. He said he knew you. Oh, and by the way, I have a grandmother in four?" Her face turns pale.

"Did he say anything else?" is her response.

"Not really, just that you ditched him for dad."

My mother carefully helps me up from the ground, making sure I don't put weight on my right side. "Come on Willow. Lets go home. Your father must be worried sick." I nod in agreement and together we start off for the house.


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N: I have probably said this in roughly ****_every _****chapter, but I mean it when I say "Thanks for all the feedback!" Anyways, chapter seven awaits!)**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Once I am seated on the porch steps my mother goes and gets my dad. "I am in so much trouble." I say to myself quietly. My dad is probably a nervous wreck and undoubtedly this will earn me some intentional time away from the woods. _Not that I am in any condition to go, _I think.

When the door opens I mentally prepare for the worst, but, instead of an angry dad, all I see is my tiny brother. "Hey." I say blandly.

"Hi."

"Why did you come out here?" I ask, curious about his sudden appearance.

"Daddy was being scary again." Asher whines. Unfortunately, I know exactly what he means by this; my dad is having one of his episodes. I notice shiny tear streaks running down his face. He takes a seat next to me before asking, "What happened to your foot?'

"I fell out of a tree." I reply nonchalantly. The door opens again and _now_ out comes the angry parents.

"Willow why did you lie to me?" asks my dad sternly.

"Technically, I didn't lie." I whisper. This just earns myself a glare and a lecture about how I was "lying by omission" from my mother. I finally decide to answer truthfully. "I don't know."

"There must be a reason?" pushes my dad. I once again come up speechless. Only then does he seem to notice my ankle. "How did you hurt yourself?" His voice sounds concerned.

"I fell... out of a tree." For some reason this was easier to tell my six-year-old brother.

My dad turns to my mother. "How bad is it?" he asks.

"I don't know. I just wrapped it up as soon as I saw her limping." she replies. My dad walks over and squats down next to me. He slowly removes the bandage. When I lay eyes on it, I wince. My ankle is swollen and a light shade of purple.

"Should we take her to the-"

"No. I can handle it." my mother says. I honestly don't know whether to be scared or not. She walks inside the house leaving my dad, Asher, and I on the porch. My dad picks me up bridal-style and carries me to the kitchen, with Asher shortly following behind. He sets me on the counter right as my mother enters the room with thicker and stiffer bandages in hand. When she asks me where it hurts, I say "Everywhere" a little too dramatically. My dad chuckles.

I watch my mother wrap up my ankle what seems like fifteen times tighter than before. "There." she says after examining her work. She then turns towards my father. "If it grows worse over the next few days then, yes, you can take her."

He raises his eyebrows in question. "Me?"

My mother scowls. "Yes, you. I am pretty sure Thyme doesn't ever want to see me again."

An amused grin breaks out across my dad's face. "Your probably right."

"But," she continues, "it should be fine." _Take me where?_ I ignore the thought and start to get off the counter. When on my feet, I find that it doesn't hurt as much to walk as it did earlier. My mother notices my sudden action and then says, "As long as you don't do that." My dad quickly runs over and helps me to the kitchen table, where I take a seat.

"How long will I be like this?" I ask pleadingly.

"A few weeks." replies my dad sympathetically. I groan. A few weeks is going to seem like an eternity. I can barely stay in here all day and now I have to for weeks on end!

"It won't be that bad." reassures my mother.

"Yes it will!" I retort in a rapid fashion. "I can't go hunting or do anything fun, _and _this means I will be in here on my birthday." I put my head in my hands miserably.

"Hey you can still have fun." she says. "Besides Everest and Annie are coming soon, and I am sure they will help keep you occupied."

I scoff. "Mother, Everest is like thirty he probably wants nothing to do with a kid like me." I use the word kid like the man in the woods did earlier. "Why are they even coming?" I ask.

"Willow he's twenty-seven," _Same difference,_ I think. "And he is also engaged." Whoa, did not see that one coming. I glance up at her to confirm her words.

"Really?"

She nods. "That's why they are coming, Willow," she continues. "So we can see him before he is married off." I am stunned. This can't be the same Everest that told little six-year-old me that he was never, _ever_ going to make such a commitment as big as marriage in his lifetime.

"To who?" I ask, because this girl must be pretty spectacular in order to win over Everest Odair.

My mother shrugs. "I don't know; Annie didn't say."

My dad suddenly walks over with a plate of mixed fruit and pastries. "You two still haven't eaten breakfast." He gestures to me and my mother, while handing over the plate.

"Thanks." I say before sinking my teeth into the crisp, flaky crust of one of the pastries. Its fruity inside excites my taste buds and I literally inhale it in a matter of seconds. I hadn't realized how famished I was until now.

Finally my plate is empty and so is the room. I look around. Even Asher has left. _Where did they go?,_ I wonder. Then I realize, who cares? I can now move around without being constantly reminded of my injury.

I walk over and gently set my plate on the counter. Out of the corner of my eye I notice an unfamiliar book lying open on the hard surface. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I avert my eyes in that direction. On the page is a hand drawn picture of a young girl and a goat. The soft pink ribbon around the goat's neck matches the girls rosy cheeks. I wordlessly read the description below the drawing.

_Lady licking Prim's cheek, the night of her 10__th__birthday._

_Prim,_ where have I heard that name before? Oh yeah; my mother's sister, my aunt, and my namesake. _Willow Primrose Mellark._ Also, how could I forget, that one day that seems like eternity ago when I had found my mother crying in her room. She had explained to me that she had lost her younger sister on that day. I of course being the naïve four year old I was, thought she had literally lost her. Eventually my mother explained to me how Prim was not lost, but dead; lost from this world I suppose. **(A/N: If you want to read a more in depth explanation of this moment, see my one-shot Time) **

_What is she doing in this book though? _I flip through the pages looking for answers, but come up short. It's many contents consists of, a photo of a baby with sea green eyes and bronze colored hair, a dried up flower, and much more. The book is almost like a reminder. It displays things that one may not want to forget, that one most likely being my mother.

I am reading a paragraph about a girl named Maysilee Donner when I hear a voice behind me. "Willow what are you reading?" inquires my mother. There is a hint of authority in her voice; like she knows I am doing something I'm not suppose to.

"Uh, nothing." I rapidly close the book and shove it further away from me on the counter.

My mother pushes past me to retrieve the book from its current location. After recognizing the cover, she suddenly turns hostile. "Where did you find this?"

I stare at her before answering, "The counter." She glares at me before hugging the book close to her chest while leaving the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N: This chapter is soooo long, well compared to my other chapters... Oh well, enjoy! P.S. Some of you have been waiting for some of the events that take place in this chapter...)**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Three days after the incident in the woods, my days become a part of the same boring routine: eat, sleep, draw; eat sleep draw. On occasion it changes to eat, sleep, draw, shoot an arrow I found under my bed at the wall; but the last one particularly gets me in trouble, especially when my parents notice the tiny holes to the right of my window frame.

My dad keeps trying to coax me into helping him with his orders for the bakery, but, I politely remind him of the time when I accidentally used salt instead of sugar, completely ruining the entire batch of cookies. He ponders this for a moment before coming to the conclusion that I am fine doing what I am now. Besides, he has Asher.

* * *

Nothing tremendously interesting happens until two days before my birthday. I am sitting on the couch playing Asher's version of the Real or Not Real game. It's mathematical based, it's whole purpose to help him learn his simple facts.

Asher is stuck on one of the most easiest problems (9+8) when my dad walks in, followed by my mother, who is clutching the book I was caught reading a couple of days ago to her chest. "Asher, why don't you go play in your room for right now?" he asks gently. There is a hint of apprehension in his voice; something almost unnoticeable. Asher doesn't object; probably because he is still stuck.

My parents take a seat on the couch, one on each side of me. They are looking at me with facial expressions so serious, I can't help but ask, "Am I in trouble?"

My dad chuckles. " No Willow, we just need to ask you a few things." I glance up at him questioningly. My dad sighs deeply, a sign that only means one thing- a _long_ explanation lies ahead. "What do you know about the Hunger Games?" I pause. This question was entirely unexpected.

"Just the basics." I reply. "Like what is was and why they had it." Then a thought comes to mind. "Why?"

My dad completely disregards my inquiry and continues, "What about the victors of the Games?"

"No," I start hesitantly. Where _is _he going with this? "We learn that next year."

"Well, Annie, Haymitch, your mother and I were all victors of the Hunger Games. Did you know that?" I stare at him aghast and feeling somewhat ignorant for not realizing it before. After all we do live in a place called _Victors Village._

"You...were...Victors?" I can just barely get the words out.

My mother nods, almost solemn. "In the 74th and 75th." she replies.

"But that's not possible." I inform assertively, remembering what the teacher had explained during the lesson over this subject. "There can only be one Victor, and in the Quarter Quell the tributes could only be previous Victors. Only one of you was a Victor, so..." I trail off, hoping that they got the point.

"I'm sorry Willow. I should have explained before. We were both Victors in the 74th Games, enabling us to be in the Quarter Quell." _Two _Victors, for one Games, what? My dad must have notice the confused look on my face, because he then adds, " They allowed two victors win in the 74th, as long as there district origin was the same."

"Why?"

My mother answers this time, but her reply isn't necessarily wholehearted. "At first the rules were as usual,- only one Victor, but then they made an announcement stating that 'both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive'." She stops breifly to make sure that I am paying attention. My mother gives me a sort of look that clearly hints if I don't listen now, then she's is not going to explain it to me ever again. She continues, "When it was just your father and I left, they announced that the previous rule change had been revoked and the rules were now back to normal. I was... enraged," My mother chooses her words carefully. "So, I pulled out the nightlock we had previously found in the forest and split it between the two of us. I had it in my mindset that they should have no Victor, and so we were about to swallow the berries at same time, when they frantically told us that we were the victors." She finishes with a grimace, like the recollection pains her. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes." I lie.

"The Capitol did not take this lightly." says my dad. "They thought your mother was trying to show them up." On any other circumstance, I would question this, but the expression on my dad's face is so stern, that I know he is not fibbing.

They alternate when explaining about the Quarter Quell and the rebellion. My mother mainly talks about how she was the rebel's symbol, their 'Mockingjay'.

When they finish, I realize that I have not said one simple word, phrase or sentence throughout their entire elucidation. I want to rise and embrace both of them for all they have seen and been through, but my whole body feels like lead, limiting my amount of motion at the moment.

"Do you have any questions?" asks my dad. I gaze at him thoughtfully. Now would be a _great _time to have that list.

"Why do you...uh..." How do I put this? "...act weird?" I am vaguely referring to his episodes that have been recently occurring. He stares at me for a second, perplexed, before understanding what it was I was questioning.

"While you mother was in thirteen," He swallows hard with a strained look etched across his face. " I was in the Capitol. The President at the time, President Snow, was trying to use me to get your mother to... well, break." I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion. _What does he mean 'break'?_ Despite my facial expressions, he continues. "They brainwashed me, make me think your mother was the enemy... a mutt. I was hijacked in other words. My memories and experiences were all altered or erased. That is why I do that, Willow, because I get those memories again._" _He waits for me to say something, but I am at a loss for words. "Anything else?"

_Only like a million, _I think. "Yes." I mumble. "But this one is for mother. Who was the man in the woods a couple of days ago, you know, the one who said he knew you?" Her face grows deathly pale, as my father gazes at her through his peripherals.

"He was an old friend of mine." she replies almost inaudible to my ears. My dad's eyes widen in recognition. _He must know him too._ He gently grabs my mother's hand and without a word, escorts her from the room.

"We'll be right back." he reassures me.

"Where are you going?" I call out to him. My dad completely ignores my question, leaving me on the couch, alone.

Roughly two minutes later, I hear the sound of his voice. " It was him wasn't it?" Apparently my mother doesn't reply because I don't hear any other words.

They soon return back to the room in which I am presently sitting, retaking their spots next to me. " His name is Gale Hawthorne." answers my mother.

"Oh." is the one word that escapes my mouth.

"I think that's enough explaining for today." says my dad while checking to see if my mother approves. She just nods in agreement.

"But-!" I start to protest, but my mother interrupts me.

"Besides, we have to get ready for Annie and Everest." she says while presenting me with 'The Look'.

'The Look' is a crossover between a scowl and something else I can't quite decipher to this day, expression of authority maybe? When I was a toddler, I kept meddling around in stuff that I shouldn't have been messing with and it was in those early moments of my life, when 'The Look' was born.

I watch as my parents exit the room.

"Can I come down now?" pleads Asher from atop the stairs.

I hear a chuckle from the kitchen. "Yes!" shouts my dad. All of a sudden Asher comes bounding down the stairs showing no signs of grace whatsoever.

"Asher, could you be any louder?" I ask faking my irritation. He smiles impishly.

"Can you play with me?" he asks oh, so innocently.

"Sorry." I reply apathetically. " I can't. Remember? The ankle?"

Lets just say, he basically disregarded each word that previously came out of my mouth.

"We can play with the dough daddy gave me." he suggests.

I scoff playfully. "Mother is not going to let us play with dough on the couch." He ponders this for a moment before dashing off into the kitchen.

I swear, in a matter of _seconds _here comes Asher with two large blobs of dough and his face practically broken in half caused by the smile stretched across it. "She said it was fine."

"_Great._" I say sarcastically while he starts to make 'cookies' with the sticky stuff.

"Lets play bakery." he says. "You're the customer, and I'm the baker."

I nod in agreement. "Okay." Asher has always been interested in working at the bakery ever since he was little; I, on the other hand, am a disgrace to the career 'baker' and basically anything related to that for that matter. Asher is a better baker at age six, than I am at almost age twelve.

"What would you like?" He asks using his quote on quote "dad voice".

"Three cookies and a cheese bun please." Ah, the deliciousness of one of my dad's cheese buns, just the thought makes me hungry.

I watch Asher get to work on the 'cookies'. When he starts on the cheese bun, his face grows puzzled. I laugh. "What's the hold up Baker Mellark?" He frowns at me.

Asher's final piece consists of only a small blob of dough placed on top of a larger blob, but hey, it's better than _anything _I could do.

He sets the goods on a small saucer and hands them to me. I grab them and reply, "Just put it on my tab." He nods slowly, obviously confused.

We start over, but this time I order a wedding cake for Everest and his so called bride-to-be; but of course Asher doesn't know that. He just keeps thinking it's for mother and dad.

He is making the second layer when we hear a call from the kitchen. "Asher, Willow, dinner!" It's my dad.

Asher jumps up and races to the kitchen at a speed that I didn't even know he was capable of traveling at. I start after him. "Hey wait! Remember I'm slow." I shout while gesturing to my ankle. He turns around and giggles before taking off even faster than before. I scowl at his backside that is now getting further and further away. How does he find my ankle funny?

I am the last one to arrive at the table. As I take a seat, I notice that the past few nights- including tonight- we have not had any peas. _I wonder why,_ I think with maybe just a hint of sarcasm.

Over dinner Asher tells another one of his stories about his friends. _Again_, I get bored and start obsessively stirring my stew because there is nothing to launch considering the lack of vegetables. I seriously, thoroughly, think about catapulting my stew, but then come to the conclusion that that specific action is too noticeable; especially since my mother has been eying me _very _carefully at dinnertime these past few days.

"Willow?" asks my dad interrupting my thoughts about a new game to keep myself occupied.

"Yeah?" I look up a bit startled.

"What about your friends?"

"Friend." I correct. "I only have one. Her name is Hazel."

He ponders this then asks, "What's her last name?"

"Hawthorne." My mother's eyes widen. The reason then strikes me. " Her dad's name is Rory, though, not Gale." I reassure her.

"Rory is Gale's little brother." she mutters under her breath.

"Oh."

My dad glances back and forth from my mother to me before stating, "Changing the subject, Annie and Everest are coming tomorrow."

I nod. "What time does their train come in?" I ask.

"8:00 am, so we will have to wake up somewhat early." This comment is directed entirely towards me. I have the tendency to wake up late by accident sometimes.

"Okay." I say while swallowing the last spoonful of my stew. I slowly rise and walk over to the sink and rinse my bowl.

"How's your ankle?" asks my mother from behind me.

"It doesn't hurt that much anymore, _but _it is still a nuisance." She laughs. It feels good to hear my mother laugh after the earlier events that took place today.

"Let me look at it." I gently set my bowl down and hop up onto the counter. My mother carefully removes the stiff bandage.

The swelling in my ankle has gone down tremendously but there is still some discoloration. Not to mention the pain has ebbed quite a bit.

My dad wordlessly walks behind my mother, who looks up from her examining. "It's getting better." She says to me before turning her head. " I told you it would be fine, Peeta."

"How did you know I was dad and not Asher behind you?" I am now not afraid to ask them questions like these anymore ever since their explanation.

My mother grins. " I have lived with him for almost thirty years, I know what he sounds like." she pauses, waiting for my reaction. "His artificial leg makes a noise when he walks." she explains while re-wrapping my ankle.

"Oh." Then another thought comes to mind. "Why do you have an artificial leg anyways?" I ask. He glances nervously around the room. I guess to make sure Asher isn't listening; though, he is too busy playing with his spoon.

"In our first Games, I got cut really deep and ended up getting blood poisoning. By the time we got back to the Capitol it was too late, so they removed it and replaced it with this." he says while gesturing to his leg. He then adds with a smile, "It was all thanks to your mother and her bad healing skills." This just brings on one of her trademark scowls. I burst into a fit of laughter along with my dad, and then freeze up quickly after realizing that she is the one healing me.

"What so funny?" asks Asher who has stopped playing and is now looking at us confused.

"Nothing." Reassures my dad with a chuckle. "I think it's time for you two to get to bed." he suggests once my mother is finished.

"But it's only eight!" I protest in a voice much younger than mine.

"Yes, but you are waking up early remember?" My dad picks up Asher, who automatically clings to his body.

"Goodnight mommy." He says

"Goodnight Asher, goodnight Willow. I love you." replies my mother.

" I love you too." Asher and I say concurrently. She strides over and hugs us both

My dad walks us up the stairs. He pauses when we reach Asher's room. I start to walk further down the hallway, when he calls to me. "I'll be there in a second." I simply nod and continue walking.

When inside my room I shut the door, and change into my sleep clothes.

I am sitting on my bed sketching, when there is a soft knock at my door. "Come in." I say.

My dad slowly emerges from behind it and takes silent steps towards me. When he reaches my bed, he embraces me in one of his bear-hugs. "Goodnight." He whispers into my ear while tucking me in.

"Goodnight. I love you." I reply.

"I love you too." he says while standing up. "Oh, and Willow," my dad starts. "Don't let what we talked about today frighten you. Your mother keeps worrying that it will."

"I won't." I reassure him almost _too_ quickly.

"Good." he mutters while kissing my forehead and then walking out the door.

Unfortunately my mother's worries come true. I lye there on my bed thinking about everything they said. The thoughts keep delaying my sleep.

Eventually my eyelids grow heavy and I submerge into my dreamland.


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N: Hello! Here is chapter nine! Enjoy! Also, as for the Reaping date, I sort of just made an educated guess, so...yeah.)**

**CHAPTER NINE**

It is roughly two in the morning when I am woken up by the slight, yet noticeable creaking of my bedroom door. My heart suddenly races as I see a silhouette cross the wall.

"Willow?" comes a small feeble voice.

"Asher?" I ask drowsily. My brother hesitantly comes into view. "What are you doing up?"

He crawls into bed beside me, wriggling himself under the sheets. "I had a bad dream." he whines pitifully. "Can you sing?"

Singing is my mother's thing, not mine; but, if he insists...

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow"_

I start.

"_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_

_Lie down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open the sun will rise._

_Here__ it's safe, here it's warm,_

_here the daises guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet_

_And tomorrow brings_

_ them true_

_Here is the place where I love you."_

I look down only to find Asher fast asleep, his blonde hair falling just over his eyebrows. _No use in finishing the song, _I think.

I particularly enjoy that song, because it reminds me of all the times Asher and I used to play in the meadow. I would run around picking dandelions for my mother, and he would just run around in general; and sometimes copy me, which wasn't at all funny at the time.

It is also one of the many songs that my mother had taught us.

I check to make sure Asher is asleep one more time, before allowing the somnolent feelings to take control.

* * *

"Willow! Willow!" shouts Asher as he shakes me violently.

I rub my shoulder tenderly. He is strong for his age. "What Asher?" I ask irritated.

"We have to go to the train station, so get _up_!" With one big push from Asher, I suddenly land on the floor with a thud.

"Asher, what was that for?" I exact while rubbing my now throbbing ankle. He bursts into a fit of very loud laughter.

"Is everything alright?" asks my dad from the doorway, genuinely concerned.

I scowl. "Asher pushed me of my _own _bed!" The accused quickly buries himself under the covers as if he is hoping to be hidden from the world. My dad walks towards us, a grin on his face. He helps me up before grabbing the bundle of giggling sheets.

"You should get ready soon," he says, Asher still in his arms. "We're leaving here in about half an hour."

"Okay." I reply as he closes the door. I quickly get dressed and throw my hair into a haphazard braid down my back.

As I approach the stairs, the sweet aroma of blueberry muffins stop me. Oh how I _love _my dad's baking.

I take the steps two at a time, and when I reach the kitchen I notice that everyone is present except me.

I sit down next to my dad and the trader (Asher). My dad passes me a small plate of muffins, which I almost immediately devour when they are in my reach. This just brings on a look from my mother, especially when Asher starts mimicking my unmannerly actions. My dad just smiles and shakes his head in a slightly chastising way.

When we all finish, we place our dishes in the sink and start out the door.

The air outside is hot and humid, coaxing me to retreat back into the cool house. Instead I continue moving. Maybe I can find out about this mysterious bride of Everest's.

I race ahead of my family just so I can see Haymitch's geese. As I approach his house, I hear the familiar honking coming from around back. I peer around the side of the house only to find their pen overloaded with flies and dung. What does Haymitch do to the poor animals?

I search around for him, but he is no where to be found. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Haymitch in a while; and obviously neither have his geese.

I am about to go and help the poor creatures when my dad calls my name. "Willow!" I run back to where they are now standing.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Nothing. Just stay close to us, alright?" I nod and linger next to them until we exit the place that was previously known as _Victors Village_.

As we approach the square, I can't help but recognize the lack of people. This is odd considering it is normally bustling with business. Most of the shops are closed and their blinds drawn, giving the area an ominous feel.

"Why is the square so vacant?" I ask both of my parents. My mother's eyes dart around questioningly and soon after, widen with recognition. She whispers something inaudible to my dad. An expression of pain spreads across his face. My mother and Asher scurry ahead of us.

When they are out of earshot, my father begins to explain. "Today is June 8th, the day of The Reaping." he says almost at a whisper.

"Oh. What exactly is The Reaping again?" I ask.

"It was the ceremony where they chose the tributes for the Hunger Games."

"Right." I mutter under my breath.

We are catching up to my mother and Asher, when I realize something. I would have missed The Reaping by a day. My birthday is June 9th, or tomorrow, and I am turning twelve. I glance over at my mother who is staring blankly ahead of us. This must be old news to her.

Before I know it, we arrive at the train station. It isn't very crowded today either. I wonder if that is also because of the historically somber day.

My mother, Asher and I take a seat on one of the chrome benches, while my dad checks to see what time the train will come in. I am sitting wordlessly when I feel a small finger jab my ribs. "What Asher?" I ask annoyed.

"Do you think Everest will play with me?" His facial is of such pure innocence, that I hate to lie.

I open my mouth to speak, but my dad takes over. "Of course he will, Asher." he reassures while tickling him. This just calls for Asher to erupt in laughter and shout constant pleads of mercy.

When the giggling dies down, my dad continues, "Good news, their train should be on time." He takes a seat next to my mother.

"That's good." she comments with quite a lack of zeal.

"What time is it?" inquires Asher obviously bored.

My mother examines the sky closely. " About eight. It should be here any time soon." I notice Asher look down at his feet, finding the action of maintaining patience arduous.

"Six plus five?" I ask him. Both of my parents look at me perplexed and completely oblivious to the mathematical game.

Asher catches on quickly.

"Eleven." he states, a grin practically causing his face to split into two.

"Nine plus eight?" He scowls at me, recalling the fact that this particular question caused him much thought before.

I start to laugh at his confusion, but then he answers. "Seventeen." I shut up quickly, while he just gives me an impish smile.

How did he figure that out, I wonder. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the painful cacophony of train brakes. My whole body perks up. _Yay! They're finally here, _it screams.

"I think this is theirs'" informs my dad as we all get to our feet. There is an announcement on the speakers that confirms his words.

Soon numerous amounts of people exit through the trains automatic doors, but to my bewilderment not one of them is Everest or Annie. We search the milieu, but they are no where to be seen.

I am starting to worry, when I lay my eyes upon two familiar faces. A tall young man that has bronze colored hair and sea green eyes with an austere expression on his face; as he gently guides a distraught looking woman with tangled brown hair and the same eyes, towards us.

I glance up at my parents apprehensively, only to find that they aren't looking so swell either. My mother has tears threatening to spill over her lower eyelashes, and my dad has that same look of pain in his eyes from earlier.

I silently grasp Asher's hand, before whispering, "What is going on?"


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N: If you want a further description of Everest, then go look at my profile. Here's chapter ten...)**

**CHAPTER TEN**

No doubt I remember Finnick, after all, my parents had just explained him to me yesterday.

How he had advanced skill with a trident, what the old president did to him, his wedding to Annie in thirteen, his death caused by the mutts; and what is probably considered the worst of all, how his son is like a living, breathing replica of him. A quality in which I have never noticed before.

"Hi Everest." I almost whisper, afraid to disrupt the silence.

"Hello Tree." Everest smirks, knowing that I completely despise my childhood nickname. I scowl at him. Stupid, immature idiot.

I am thoroughly considering punching him right now, when I hear my fathers voice.

"Annie, Everest. It's nice to see you again." He says. Beside him, my mother nods in agreement, carefully thinking over the situation.

Annie rapidly comes to her senses at the sound of my fathers voice. "Hello Katniss, hello Peeta." she replies before turning to Asher and I. "And Willow and Asher. My, you two have gotten big." she says, her voice foreign and distant. I force a smile to play itself across my lips.

There is, yet again, silence dominates all.

"Why don't we head back?" my dad suggests hesitantly. A chorus of agreement escapes all of our lungs, and we soon start off.

On the way home, I walk next to Everest and behind everyone else. "You know your mom is a Victor right?" I bring the topic up casually. Everest erupts into a loud guffaw as if I told the most humorous joke when actually it's the complete antithetic. My parents turn their heads towards us questioningly.

When he finally stops laughing and my parents resume to there previous position, he explains the reason for his sudden outburst. "You know Tree, that is the most unintelligent thing you could ever ask me." I scowl, once again; but Everest continues. "Of course I know that!"

"Oh." I pause. "Stop calling me Tree!" I retort, annoyed, while wordlessly agreeing with his previous words.

"Whatever you say..._Tree._" He begins to laugh again. _Seriously?_ Suddenly his expression turns serious, and for once he acts his age. "So they told you about the Games?" he asks, his voice inaudible to everyone but me. I nod blandly. "When?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh." Our verbal dissemination is kept to a minimum the rest of the way home.

As we approach the steps, I hear a loud crash coming from Haymitch's house. Knowing Haymitch, it can't be anything pleasant. I decide against investigating further, because that just means preparing for the worst and I don't really feel like doing so at the moment.

I notice Asher who has been surprisingly speechless the whole trip. "Asher, are you okay" I ask him while my parents go show Annie and Everest the guest bedroom. He slowly nods his head, not really sure as to what to say. I give him a concerning look before walking towards the kitchen table.

I grasp a piece of paper and pencil, and then begin to sketch.

My pencil is just creating the outlines when my dad walks into the room. He glances over my shoulder momentarily before speaking. "Nice mockingjay." I look up at him in astonishment.

"How did you know it was a mockingjay? I just started."

He chuckles. "Because you always repeat your sketches over and over again, and you have drawn a mockingjay before." he explains.

To my surprise, his words are veritable. I _do _draw things repetitively. I think back to all of the times in which I have sketched the bird. In the kitchen, in the meadow, while sitting on the couch; all in which my dad was present. I guess I have never acknowledged him observing me.

My dad leaves the room, and then soon returns with his own sketch pad and pencil. He takes a seat across from me and beings drawing his own picture, while I continue on mine.

Am working on its wings when curiosity suddenly creeps up on me. I glance up at my dad, only to find an austere looking expression on his face. I attempt at resisting the urge to look at his picture, but end up unsuccessful. I eventually find myself slowly walking towards him, using hunting steps, so I don't disrupt his productivity.

As I approach him, he drops his sketch pad and the pencil that was once in his hand, now hits the floor with a plunk. "Dad?" I question softly. He begins to grip the edge of the table so hard, that his knuckles turn white. Trepidation consumes me, and I have no idea as to why. I have seen this happen numerous times, but why does it never fail to frighten me?

"Mom!" I screech, just barely able to make out the words. She and Everest almost immediately burst into the room.

"What's wrong?" she asks, concerned. I just point in my dads direction.

Everest gives me a sympathetic look and helps guide me out of the room while my mother tends to my dad.

When we reach the living room, I still have not spoken a word. Everest acknowledges this and then says, "Don't worry Willow. Doesn't this normally happen?" I don't reply.

I am not worried, or scared, but just deep in thought. On his paper, was not an animal, or a plant – the usual things he draws – but only a portrait of _me._


	11. Chapter 11

**(A/N: Here's chapter eleven, enjoy!)**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Why was he drawing _me_? Did _I _trigger the attack? All these questions and more are currently bouncing of the inside of my skull, so rapidly, that I can't even think straight.

I apprehensively glance over my shoulder, through the doorway to the kitchen. My dad, unfortunately, is still trapped in his hijacked world.

How long has it been? Seconds? Minutes? The question was intended to be rhetorical, but my overly active mind answers anyway – _too _long.

Regret and guilt consumes me, both feelings I don't encounter often. I can't help but blame myself for the previous occurring actions. After all, it was I, who was on that paper, not anybody else. My picture _must_ have done it.

My thoughts are too overwhelming, and only one thing surfaces – I need to go somewhere... alone; and the meadow just may be that perfect somewhere.

Everest tries to embrace me in some brotherly hug, when I quickly slip through his now enclosing arms. I scamper to the front door, fling it open, and dash down the porch steps all before Everest's mouth can even form my name.

The air outside is a lot warmer than earlier and I am already starting to perspire after just a minute or two. Exhaustion overcomes me, but my legs keep moving.

When I finally reach the meadow, my shirt is soaked and I am panting. Blood pounds in my ears as I collapse on top of a bed grass, crushing some innocent daisies in the making. My right ankle throbs with an excruciating pain, still not entirely healed from earlier this week.

I close my eyes and attempt to sort through my severely jumbled thoughts. I slowly start with the easy things to comprehend and then gradually approach the more harder ones. "It was I on my dad's paper, and he did have an episode." I reassure myself out loud, but the one agonizing question keeps bombarding me: Was it I who triggered the attack?

I am suddenly interrupted by a noise. It sounds like human footsteps but almost... _fake . _Wait, fake.

"Dad?" I ask without even bothering to turn around. There I no reply.

A body wordlessly takes a seat next to me and I can tell out of my peripheral vision that, it is, indeed, my dad. My mother was right, his leg _does_ make a noise when he walks.

We sit there quietly, waiting for the other to start talking, for a good ten minutes.

I finally interrupt the silence. "Why were you drawing me?" I spit out the question, desperate for an answer.

He continues to stare blankly at the woods, before saying, "Did you know, Willow, that when you were younger I wrote down and even sometimes drew a picture of your biggest accomplishments in here." He pulls out the big, brown book that my mother seemed to never let me read, touch, or even _look _at from behind his back. I shake my head vigorously, answering his question. "Well, I did." He gestures for me to come sit closer to him. I oblige, anxious to finally find out what is hidden upon the pages of that book.

My dad opens the book to a page towards the back. On it lies a hand drawn picture of a laughing infant. "Your first real laugh." he states while grinning at the image.

He turns to the next page. This one consists of a description of what the setting was like when I spoke my first word, – daddy. I am not too shocked that this was the first word spoken by baby Willow, because of the two my dad seemed like the more interactive parent. My mother on the other hand was a bit held back and quiet (or so I am told).

On and on we flip through the pages. My first steps, when I lost my first tooth, the day I shot almost perfectly at the game in the woods. Each event seems almost insignificant to me, but in my parents eyes, they are memories that demand never to be forgotten.

Then we come to the last page which is almost blank except for five words at the top: _Willow, when she is twelve._

_That's it, _I think, _that is why he bore my face upon his paper. _"You see now?" I nod silently. Not once throughout his presentation have I said anything.

He is about to shut the book when I stop him. "What else is in there?" My dad just smiles at my curiosity and reopens it to the first page. It is the page with the girl and the goat.

"This is your mother's sister or your aunt, Primrose." His words are somber and sullen.

"How did she die?" As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I wish I could take the back.

His answer is solemnly laconic. "A bomb." He turns the page before I can say anything else.

"This is a description of your grandfather's laugh." My eyes skim the paragraph, carefully reading each word written. I examine the picture of him, noting that he looks quite a bit like my mother... just as I expected.

We soon turn to the page with the baby picture. "Who's that?" I ask.

"That would be Everest." I erupt in a fit of laughter. That can't _possibly _be Everest, he looks so different. Then I remember that it has been twenty-seven years since this was taken. What did I expect? Obvious similarities? Never again am I going to take that man seriously... _ever._

My dad waits for my giggling to die down before continuing.

There is not much more in the book that he can explain. Only a bunch (twenty-three years to be exact) of tributes from district twelve that Haymitch had mentored. Since he never really met any of them personally, all he can do is speak their name and turn the page.

When we finish, my dad closes the book and starts to stand up. "You coming?" he asks me. I haven't even realized I am still sitting in the grass of the meadow.

I wordlessly nod while rising. I start to walk along side my dad when my legs suddenly stop abruptly in there tracks. My one question still has not been answered. "What triggered your attack?" I blurt out. My dad who is a few feet in front of me, turns on his heel.

He stares at me, his blue eyes boring into mine, and says, "Willow, I don't really know."

_There you go, there's the answer, now move,_ I tell myself. But I can't. My legs just won't budge. Then, it hits me. It's not that I want to know _what _triggered the attack, but only that it was not me. So, I ask, "I didn't cause it right?"

"No Willow, it certainly wasn't you." I feel a wave of relief wash over me. I start to walk towards him, glad that I finally have an answer.


	12. Chapter 12

**(A/N: Here is Chapter twelve! Enjoy!)**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

As soon as I emerge from behind the front door, my body is tackled by one of my mother's bone-crushing hugs. Obviously, she was pretty worried about my sudden disappearance. My mother has always been a bit overprotective of Asher and I, but she as a good reason. I mean, if I was unwillingly forced into a game were I was expected to fight to the death not only once, but twice, and fought in a major rebellion of the country, then I would probably be a bit protective of my family too.

"Where was she?" asks my mother while pulling away. The question was directed towards my dad.

"The meadow." he replies laconically. She just nods and embraces me once more.

We all walk into the kitchen, where Asher, Annie, and Everest all sit. Annie for once is actually smiling, along with Everest and Asher.

Everest's face turns serious when he acknowledges my presence. "Where did you go Tree?" he asks. As usual, the overly used nickname brings on a scowl. This time though, he doesn't laugh.

When I don't answer, he continues on with his actions including Asher, whom begins to giggle shortly after. I take a seat at the table next to them.

"I'm going to start dinner." announces my dad. Everyone agrees and Annie walks over to help.

My mother suddenly approaches me. "How's your ankle?"

"It's getting better." I reassure her and then turn my head towards Asher. "Though, not getting pushed off the bed for a while would help." Asher grins impishly at my vague reference.

"That's good. It must not have been as severe as I thought it to be, if it is already healed this much." she says while examining the injury. "But then again, I'm not a doctor."

"You mean never _was_ a doctor." Corrects my dad with a chuckle. My mother glares at him somewhat playfully, somewhat real. Her actions are only the cause of more laughter.

"So does this mean I can go hunting again?" I almost plead.

My mother grins. "Possibly." I celebrate silently in my head.

"How did you hurt your ankle?" asks a voice beside me. It's Everest.

"I fell out of a tree." I reply apathetically. Everest starts to laugh again. "What's so funny?"

"Tree fell out of a tree!" he replies, gasping for air.

"Way to be mature." I retort sarcastically. I swear he acts like a kid sometimes, but I suppose he is... well, at heart anyway. I smile and try to think of an offensive comeback. Even Everest's stupid jokes can't ruin my mood, I get to go hunting!

"Well at least I didn't look funny as a baby." I shoot back at him, my voice only audible to his ears. Everest abruptly turns serious.

"You have seen me as a baby?" he asks hesitantly. I nod, a smirk stretched across my face. "Where?" he exacts. I laugh at his abashed expression.

"My dad showed it to me." He stares at me accusingly before ending the conversation. _I must have won, _I think with slight victory.

I then realize Everest's lack of speech about his so called bride-to-be. "So, I heard your getting married." I bring up the topic casually.

"Yeah, well it's true." he mumbles avoiding my gaze.

"What's her name?" I press.

He turns to me. "Leah, why?"

"Uh... I don't know."

Suddenly Annie enters the conversation. "She is a very nice girl. Perfect for Everest." she informs while setting some napkins down on the table. I stand there wordless. That is the most opinionated thing that I have _ever _heard Annie say.

I glance at Everest who just rolls his eyes irritatingly. "Are you okay?" I almost whisper. He waits for his mother to leave before speaking.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just most people I know back in District Four are," he puts his fingers in quotations and begins to speak in falsetto. " 'Supremely shocked that Everest is making such a large commitment'." To be honest, I was shocked about his marriage, but this seems unworthy of saying so at the moment.

"Well, you _did _say that you would never do such a thing and accused those who did of acting extremely foolish." Everest simply glares at me. "Okay, not helping."

"You think?" he mutters under his breath.

"Well Mountain, I have nothing to say to that." I test out the foreign nickname.

"What did you just call me?"

"Mountain." He looks at me questioningly. "A _long _time ago," I emphasize the word long, just to get my point across. "There was a famous mountain called Mount Everest. I read it in one of my history books."

Everest scoffs. "Sure Tree." A small grin appears on his face. Yay, I got him to smile!

"It true!" I protest. He just shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Dinner!" shouts my dad, even though everyone is pretty much maintaining a distance in which he wouldn't have to yell to get our attention.

When we all receive our food, we take our seats at the table. Two extra chairs have been added for our guests. The air is fraught with an excessively boring silence, so I begin to speak my mind (something that I am positive will be unfortunate on my part in the future). I glance down at my plate. "I see the peas have made a reappearance.'' I haven't even realized the words had escaped my mouth until I am granted with two puzzled expressions from Annie and Everest and 'The Look' from my mother.

She grasps my plate, scrapes off all of the previously mentioned vegetable, and replaces it with an extra serving of carrots; all in a matter of seconds. _I can still launch these, _I think mischievously, though decide against it because my mother's eagle eye is still present.

Again nobody talks despite my repeated attempts to spark conversation. I want to ask Everest more about Leah, but withhold my curiosity since he got so upset before.

When we all finish eating, I accompany my dad in cleaning the kitchen.

I am washing a plate, when I hear his voice, "Willow, why did you say that during dinner?"

I look up from my work and answer, "I didn't mean to, it just, well, slipped out." I pause. " Has that ever happened to you?"

He nods and chuckles. " A lot. And most of the comments where about your mother. In fact, one time she was skinning a squirrel on the counter and I just so happened to mention how it would be difficult to remove the gut stains."

"What did she do?" I ask suddenly drawn to his story.

He sighs. "She threw the skinning knife at me. Thankfully I dodged it just in time, so it hit the wall instead." He points to an old slash in the wallpaper. "The mark is still there today." Huh, I've always wondered how that got there.

"Where was I?"

"You were there."

I scan my memories. "I don't remember though." If I was there, I am sure I would have noted that particular incident.

"Wouldn't expect you to." he says. "You weren't born yet."

"Then how was I – oh." I understand now. I was still in my mother's womb. To be honest that explains _quite_ a bit.

"You about done there?" asks my dad.

"Yes sir." I gently put away the plate, careful not to break or chip the ceramic.

"Come on then." We enter the other room, in which everyone else is sitting.

I take a seat next to Asher while my dad lays a protective arm around my mother. "Can we play bakery?" asks Asher. I nod.

I am about to order when a loud high pitched beeping noise coming from the television eradicates the peaceful quiet. My mother's face becomes worried and her body tense. My dad squeezes her shoulders gently. "It's okay Katniss. Remember when we were in the Capitol civilian's house? It's just an emergency broadcasting." he whispers reassuringly. I hear a sigh of relief and my mother loosens up.

I turn my gaze by to the television right as they show the seal of Panem. The image changes to a woman wearing professional attire. It appears that she is at a press conference, for there are camera's, microphones, and people everywhere. "Attention citizens of Panem, I bring with me news in which I will regret announcing and you will not be too pleased with. President Lacey Paylor has been reported missing for over thirty-six hours without any trace as to her whereabouts. Officials of Panem are holding and preforming search parties all over the country. If you have any tips, please contact us below." A contact number appears at the bottom as the anthem plays. Shortly after, the screen goes black.

I look towards my mother who is staring blankly in front of her. Everyone is quiet including Asher.

My dad finally rises, and walks toward Asher and I. "Time for bed." he almost mutters. He picks up Asher and grabs my hand.

By the time we reach Asher's room, the child is fast asleep, his head on my dad's shoulder. We gently tuck him into bed. When we are done, we make our way down the hall to my room.

After I am under the covers, my dad and I exchange our good nights, and he kisses my forehead.

When he leaves I find the idea of sleep impossible. Too much is going on inside my mind. Half of it is about the strange disappearance of the President, and the other half is completely overcome with excitement about my birthday tomorrow.

I soon hear a raucous blood curdling scream erupt from my parents' room. Thankfully the guest bedroom is downstairs, not that it would make much of a difference.

I have now learned not to let it bother me, after all nightmares can sometimes be the best kind of dreams, they're the only ones that bring happiness when they end.

I still try to drown out the noise by making a mental list of all the things that could have possibly happened To Paylor. Of course, as it would be on most peoples', number one is death.


	13. Chapter 13

**(A/N: Thanks for all the feedback! Sorry for the length of this chapter. Also the chapters should be more eventful from now on. Sorry for the really long beginning, and thanks to those who are still reading!)**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

I eventually fall asleep sometime during the night, and I have just the slightest feeling I was drawing, because there is a pencil near my right hand, and a now crumpled sheet of parchment in the other.

The bright sun streams through the windows, blinding my eyes as I emerge from under the sheets. I glance drowsily at the clock and decide it might just be too early to be up, so, like any other person would, I close my eyes once more.

* * *

The next time I wake, it is not because of a sharp pointed pencil jabbing my side (that malevolent writing utensil!), but only my mother gently shaking me. My eyelids flutter open just as I hear her whisper, "Happy birthday, Willow." I shoot up so quickly, that I almost fall off the bed for the second time in two days.

"Thanks!" I say with zeal. My mother's presence can only mean one thing – we are going to the woods!

I rapidly jump up from my matress and get dressed. As I finish, my mother is laughing. "That was record speed." she says. I nod, a little surprised myself. I unlock the chest at the foot of my bed and retrieve my bow from it's home

Once the weapon is safe in my hands, we wordlessly walk downstairs and out the door.

The temperature outside is perfect, right in between hot and cold. I try my best to enjoy it, keeping in mind that such a thing won't last for long.

The meadow is especially beautiful this morning. Flowers dot the field, emerging up here and there between the numerous tufts of grass. Everything is also doused in dew soaking all clothing from my knee down by the time we reach the edge of the woods.

As we enter the shady refuge of tree branches, small animals quickly scuttle out of our way, frightened by us humans. I begin to make my way towards the lake – the place in which we usually go – when my mother abruptly stops me. "We are going somewhere different today." she informs while gesturing for me to follow her down a path entirely foreign to my eyes.

It seems as though we walk for ages until, finally, we come to a small clearing surrounded by blackberry bushes and over looking a jaw-dropping scene of the valley. We take a seat in the soft grass, our backs up against a large boulder.

I am gathering a small handful of blackberries, when I hear my mother begin to sing:

"_Down in the valley, the valley so low, _

_Hang your head over, hear the wind blow._

_Hear the wind blow dear, hear the wind blow._

_Hang your head over, and hear the wind blow."_

She pauses for a moment and that's when we hear it, – the voice behind us, "_Hello Catnip._"


End file.
